


Sticks and Stones

by annabagnell



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Fawnlock, M/M, Mpreg, Nesting, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabagnell/pseuds/annabagnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock stood back to survey his handiwork, admiring the bouquet of smells coming from the nest he’d made for John. The pillows and blankets smelled of them, and the leaves, grasses, and flowers he’d used for padding brought their own fragrances from the outdoors. All in all, he thought, it was a rather good nest for his first try - </p>
<p>“What in the fresh hell have you done?” John shouted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [consultinghomosexual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultinghomosexual/gifts).



> A commission for consulting-homos.tumblr.com. 
> 
> Commission me! (or send me headcanons) annabagnell.tumblr.com

Their house was clean, to the point that Sherlock was quite certain that if John accidentally dropped his breakfast onto the floor, he’d be able to sit down with knife and fork and eat it from the polished wood without a second thought. 

The fawn’s human mate had been cleaning their home every day, scrubbing the floors on his hands and knees and climbing onto countertops to reach the tops of the cabinets above. Sherlock could only stand behind him, fretting and pacing anxiously, hoping that John wouldn’t lose his balance and fall and hurt himself or the baby. 

Sherlock didn’t understand why John was spending so much time cleaning, especially as pregnant as he was. Shouldn’t his mate be resting, building a nest for the baby? Perhaps John was waiting for his Alpha to do that - maybe for humans, the custom was different, Sherlock realised. John wanted him to build the nest where he’d birth their baby. Of course! 

After his epiphany, Sherlock started preparing. He only had a few weeks to gather and assemble all the materials he’d need for the nest, and he’d need to do it while John was busy, so he could surprise his mate with his nest. 

His opportunity came right on time. When John called out to Sherlock that he was leaving to get groceries, Sherlock leapt into action. Piles of dry leaves he’d been collecting for weeks were dragged by the armful into the house and arranged in a big, fluffy circle on the sitting room floor, surrounded by a sturdy frame of twigs and branches Sherlock had procured from the nearby woods. On top of the leaves went a few layers of dried grasses, delightfully fragrant. And, for John’s sake, Sherlock added a generous heap of cushions and blankets to top it all off, giving his mate even more padding for the nest. 

When he was done, Sherlock stood back to survey his handiwork, admiring the bouquet of smells coming from the nest he’d made for John. The pillows and blankets smelled of them, and the leaves, grasses, and flowers he’d used for padding brought their own fragrances from the outdoors. All in all, he thought, it was a rather good nest for his first try - 

“What in the fresh hell have you done?” John shouted, making Sherlock startle. “I had everything clean, Sherlock, it was absolutely spotless and now you’ve brought in all this rubbish and set it in the middle of the living room floor? I’m 38 weeks pregnant, how am I supposed to clean this up?” 

The fawn turned and looked at John, his brow furrowed. “It’s a nest, John...for you to sleep in, and wait for the baby to come...” He wrung his fingers anxiously. 

“I’m already nesting!” John replied, casting a disgruntled glance at the pile of rubbish Sherlock had made. “That’s why I’ve been cleaning, to get ready for the baby to come. The house needs to be clean, not filled with leaves and sticks and weeds.” He put his hands on his hips, looking crossly at Sherlock. 

The fawn’s ears dropped and his shoulders followed suit. Looking dejected, he chewed his lip. He’d upset John, that much was clear, but he’d only been trying to help John get ready for their baby. He’d thought John was waiting for him to build a nest, when it turned out that John’s version of nesting was something else entirely. “I’m sorry,” he said at last, looking at John sadly. “In my herd...when a mate is nearing birth, they build a nest, a place where they can feel warm and safe, and lay with their mate as they wait for the baby to come. You didn’t make one, so I thought...I thought I would do it for you. I wasn’t trying to make a mess.” 

John’s gaze softened and he let out a quiet ‘oh.’ “Sherlock...” he started, his hands falling from his hips as he took a step toward his mate. “Love...” It was John’s turn to look sad. “I’m the one who should be apologising. You went through all this effort to make me a nest, and here’s me, shouting at you for making a nest. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what this meant. We don’t - humans, I mean, don’t make nests. We clean to get ready. I should have asked you what your herd did, and I didn’t even think about it.”

John shook his head and gave Sherlock an apologetic smile, taking the last few steps toward his Alpha and reaching out to take his hands. “It’s lovely, Sherlock. Tell me what you’ve made it of?” 

Sherlock returned John’s smile shyly, squeezing his mate’s hands carefully. He glanced down to John’s belly and then over to the nest, feeling a bit better. “I’ve been gathering leaves for weeks,” he started, “and drying them, so they’re crunchy and soft, not wet. And then grasses, long ones, from the meadow, and some wildflowers. Fawns like their nests to smell like the outdoors, so I gathered things that smelled nice.” He released John’s hands and crouched down on the floor, peeling back the blanket to show the different layers he’d created. “And surrounded by birch sticks and twigs, to keep its shape. And then because you are a human and I know you like soft things,” the fawn added with a wide grin, “I put in some pillows and cushions, and covered it with blankets for warmth.” Done explaining, he rose again, his tail flickering eagerly, hoping John would approve of his craftsmanship. 

John looked at Sherlock proudly. “It looks very comfortable,” he said approvingly, and Sherlock’s ears flickered upward. “You took my comfort in mind, I can tell. I’m sure I’ll love to lay down and rest there. In fact,” he continued, pressing his hands to his lower back and stretching, “How about a nice rest? I’ll put the groceries away and we can lay down, the both of us, and have a sleep.” 

Sherlock nodded and gave John a brief kiss on the temple. John grinned at Sherlock’s hesitance and cupped his cheek, pulling him down for a proper kiss. “You’re forgiven, love. I’m sorry for shouting.” 

The last of Sherlock’s reluctance faded away and he returned John’s kiss, his ears and tail flicking happily. “I’ll get the groceries,” he offered, pulling back and looking down at John through bright eyes. “You change clothes. Something comfortable,” he instructed, and then headed for the kitchen. 

John did as Sherlock instructed and headed for the bedroom, taking off his ‘good clothes’ and changing into some worn, comfortable pyjamas. He had to roll up a pair of Sherlock’s sleep bottoms, as his own had grown too small, but when he pulled on an oversized t-shirt he couldn’t see the waistband anyhow. Clothes changed, he waddled back out into the living room, laying fond hands on the sides of his belly as the baby rolled slowly. “Ready when you are, love,” he called softly, listening to Sherlock unpack the groceries. 

When Sherlock heard John’s voice he left the rest of the canned goods on the counter - they could wait. He smiled when he saw John in his comfortable clothes, looking cosy and round. Sherlock loved him like this. “Come on,” he said excitedly, his hooves clicking against the floor as he headed to the nest. “I’ll help you in.” 

John smiled broadly and took Sherlock’s hands, letting his mate help him into the fluffy nest. He grunted as he laid down in it, nearly losing his balance before Sherlock’s strong arms caught him and lowered him gently. The fawn laid down next to him, graceful as always, and John gave him a wry grin as they both settled in. “It does smell very nice,” John admitted, inhaling the sweet grassy smell that had started to permeate the air. “And it’s softer than I expected. A very nice nest,” he affirmed, giving Sherlock a peck on the lips. 

Sherlock preened and his ears fluttered at the praise. “I’m glad you like it,” he said shyly, his cheeks flushing. He pulled a blanket from the pile beside the nest and draped it over them both, curling up in front of John with his mate’s belly between them. A short while passed where they simply looked into each other’s eyes, their smiles soft and easy. Sherlock shifted and spoke up first. “In my culture,” he began slowly, “the Omega builds a nest that they rest in, and birth in, when...when the time comes. I don’t know if you want to do that, but if you do...” he trailed off, looking at John expectantly. 

“I don’t know if I’ll want to do it, either,” John sighed, shifting. It was a comfortable nest, for certain, but he hadn’t given much thought to a birth plan. “But I will rest here, with you, because the baby is half fawn and maybe it will soothe them. It’s already gone to sleep,” he observed, taking Sherlock’s hand and drawing it to his full belly. “If, when I go into labour, I feel like I want to birth it here, then I will. Sound fair?” he asked. 

Sherlock nodded and huffed out a breath, leaning forward to nuzzle against John’s cheek. “My beautiful mate,” he murmured, the fine, downy hair on his cheek sliding smoothly over John’s skin. “And our beautiful baby.” The fawn tipped his chin to catch John’s lips in a sweet, slow kiss, nibbling at John’s lower lip. 

John responded in kind, opening his lips to allow Sherlock’s questing mouth to claim his. It had been a long time since they’d kissed like this, mostly settling for quick brushes of lips in the morning and careful kisses to the temple at night. But here they lay, in the middle of the afternoon, curled up in a soft, warm nest, kissing languidly. John couldn’t think of a time he’d been happier than this. 

After several long minutes, Sherlock pulled back with a little whimper, his eyelids fluttering closed. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, apologetic. His hand slid down over his groin, where his cock had grown to half-hardness as they kissed. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” John replied, cocking his head curiously. “That’s natural, yeah? I was quite enjoying it too, I have to admit,” he said with a little laugh. “You know, if you wanted to...we could. It’s not going to hurt me or the baby.” 

Sherlock’s eyelids flew open and he stared at John, a bit taken aback. “But you’re -“ he faltered and his cheeks flushed pink. 

“Yeah, I know I am, but I’m also a man in his prime who’s bonded to a very attractive Alpha fawn. My sex drive doesn’t disappear just because I’m pregnant.” He laughed and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. 

Sherlock smiled bashfully in return. “Do you want to...?” he tried, meeting John’s gaze briefly. “It’s been a long time. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” John assured his mate gently, taking Sherlock’s hand and squeezing it. “In fact, I’d rather enjoy it, I think. Come on, love. Kiss me some more.” He drew Sherlock’s hand to rest on his hip and leaned forward to catch the fawn’s lips in another lingering kiss. 

Without inhibitions now, Sherlock quickly found himself hard and leaking onto the blankets he’d spread across the nest. His and John’s kisses had grown more heated as they went on, nipping and tugging at each other’s lips and moaning quietly into each other’s mouths. He could smell John’s arousal as it grew and he knew John could smell him too, the heady scent of pheromones growing thick in the air around them. 

John tossed the blanket back and pulled his t-shirt over his head, baring his belly and swollen breasts to Sherlock’s touch. The fawn responded eagerly, massaging the tight, tender tissue of John’s breasts until his nipples pebbled under his fingers. John moaned and pushed his chest into Sherlock’s hands. “Just like that. Yeah,” he breathed, tugging roughly at Sherlock’s lower lip. 

At last, Sherlock rose up onto his knees, leaving John panting, lying on his side in the nest. He reached down wordlessly to help John onto his back, pushing him up onto the ridge of the nest for elevation. John watched with dark eyes as Sherlock tugged at his pyjama bottoms, pulling them along with John’s pants off and tossing them away. The fawn spread John’s thighs wide, his Alpha cock twitching at the thick scent of Omega slick that blossomed from John’s body. He looked up at John almost predatorily, cock jutting proudly from the dark thatch of hair at his groin. He started stroking himself slowly, a motion that made John’s mouth water. “Touch me,” the Omega rasped, ripe and ready for his mate. 

Sherlock complied, settling one hand on the join of thigh and belly and slipping another into that place between John’s legs, where rings of muscle opened eagerly for his fingers. John was hot and slick inside, his arousal making his muscles go lax and soft, ready for his Alpha to claim him. Sherlock pumped two fingers in and out for several minutes, working John open enough to add a third finger and continuing his preparations. 

John was panting and his fingers were working frantically over his breasts by the time Sherlock felt the Omega was ready for him. His belly was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his forehead beaded with it, dripping onto his chest. “Come on, love,” he whispered. “Come on, I want you.” 

Sherlock withdrew his hand from John and used the remaining slick to coat his cock, letting out a long, low moan as he stroked himself slowly. With a visible effort he stopped the motion and placed his hands on John’s belly instead, the smooth palms sliding over the round, full belly - he’d put that there, he’d given John a baby, filled his mate up and made him ripe with their child. He bent down and pressed one chaste kiss to the stretched skin just below John’s navel before pulling back and taking his cock in hand. 

John spread his thighs obligingly and let his eyelids fall half-closed, playing the part of submissive Omega. He felt Sherlock shifting between his thighs and savoured the long pause where Sherlock kneeled, waiting, cock thick and hard and ready in his hand. “Come on,” he breathed once more, and barely had time to draw in a breath before all the air was pushed from his lungs as Sherlock slid home. 

Their coupling was all but a blur after that, both men lost in pleasure and sensation after so long without. John’s body was tighter than Sherlock remembered, his channel tighter now that the baby was big and taking up so much space inside him. John had nearly forgotten how thick and long Sherlock’s cock felt as it slid inside his body, filling him up utterly and leaving him nearly bereft with want every time Sherlock pulled out only to push back in. Their harsh breathing and the sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room. 

“Touch me,” John gasped after what felt like an eternity. Sherlock immediately released his hold on one hip to stroke John’s cock in time with his thrusts, pushing as deep as he could into John’s body and thumbing the head of John’s prick the way he knew made John squirm. With Sherlock inside him and his warm, steady hand on John’s cock the Omega was coming long and loud, fuelling Sherlock to thrust harder, deeper, faster until he buried himself in John’s body and spilled his seed with a low, rumbling groan of John’s name. 

John barely registered the movement of Sherlock pulling out, the feeling of something warm and sticky slipping out of his body the only signal his bleary mind picked up before Sherlock was curling up behind him, the fawn’s warm body snugged as close to John’s as it could get. Long, strong arms wrapped around John’s body and settled him more comfortably into the nest, now the smell of _them_ now mingled with the earthy aroma of leaves and grasses. 

As his tired, sated body started to allow the dark curtains of sleep to pull him down, John felt _right_ somehow, connected with Sherlock, with the baby, with their natural world in a way he hadn’t felt before. The trill of a bird, far away, filtered through the open window and, with the last kiss of the setting sun, John fell asleep in Sherlock’s arms. 

 


End file.
